"Ma'am, this is a matter b'tween life an death. Quickly, we migh'nt got much time!"

She led me to a big blue machiney thing and turned it on. She did some kinda wierd gobbledegook on it where she pressed some colorful buttons and switches and it started flashin' lights. Perty soon there was pitchers showin up an everythin. After a few minits, she stopped.

"I'm sorry Mister, but there doesn't seem to be anything in the archives about or referring to 'Teevyland.'"

"Well that's very strange. You sure the archives ain't wrong?"

"I'm confident our archives are very accurate and up-to-date." She eyed me suspicurously. "Are you suggesting there's a problem with them?"

"Well there's got to be. My friend lives in this place."

"You know, Mr. . . ."

"Worrel. Muh name's Mr. Worrel." I tole her. I still dunno why I gave her that name instead'a my own.

"Mr. Worrel, a lot of padawans come in here and like to play jokes on the staff here. They lead us on wild goose-chases then walk away laughing."

"Why, that's horrable!"

"Yes, it is. And I certainly wouldn't like being played a joke on right now."

"Me neither, Missus. That don't sound very fun."

"No it wouldn't. So tell me. Who is this friend of yours?"

I thought fer a minute. "Ernest P. Worrell"

She smiled meanly, but also like she figgered out where this TV Land was. "So he's related to you?"

"Naw, Ma'am. I dunno what you're talkin bout, but we are not relations."

"Have you seen him on television?"

"Tell a... whuwhu?"

"Television? You know, TV?"

"Oh. Oh yeah! I sees him all the time! An Rocky an Mister Bean an Elvis live there too. You know where it is now?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

She took me to the door and pushed me out. She then closed the door in fronta my face and went away somewheres.

"Hello?" I shouted through the crack. "Think you can show me wheri'tis?"

No answer.

"Perty please?"

Silence.

"Perty please with a cherry on top?"

I waited but she didn't come. It musta been an hour when I gave up an left. If I see Mace, I'm tellin him exactly that this libarry place of his sucks. It's nothin but a big waste-a time. At this rate, I'll never find poor Ernest.